The Ally.

A Sham Shady Adventure.

Episode One; A Class Dame in Gus’ Place.

    The name’s Shady, Sham Shady. My friends called me Shade or just Shady, back when I had friends. Guess I kinda lost ‘em all along the way. No imagination, anyhow...

    Business I’m in, it don’t lend itself to friends, as the British might say. Shitty business they’re all in, too. Wouldn’t you know it?

    I seem to be acquainted with alot of people, though; the people who get things done. And I don’t mean any bigwig business men or any of those pasty-faced shits down at city hall, either. I mean like janitors, pressmen, bar tenders, waiters, hoods & hookers & the cops that book ‘em. Yeah, well I guess poetry ain’t my line, either; no romance in this town; everything’s a score, got it’s markup - only some merchandise you can’t see the tag ‘till you’ve learned how to look. Usually by then, you’ve already paid. Know what I mean?

    No, me either; but I’m drunk, so I gotta excuse.

    Never trust a Dick who don’t drink at least. That sucker’ll never earn his fee. You gotta see straight, in my line, and once you’ve seen things cold, you never wanna see ‘em that way again. Sobriety is hell, but hell’s where I gotta make my living. Unlike your scout leader or church goer, I at least have the option of sobriety. For a fee, I dive back in, then look real hard so’s I can get back out fast. The Americans might say that’s my motivation, but then the Americans’ll say anything to save them from shutting up & letting anyone else speak for a second.

    Well, I’m drunk right now, an’ that’s how I’m gonna stay ‘till my next case. Usually I get a coupla weeks, last time it was more’n a month.

    Things were gettin’ pretty close, so close I almost started fishing for work. Almost. Never think I would have, though. This job ain’t something you choose to do. You try to fight it at first, ‘till you learn you can’t. Then you just sit & let it form around you and stay drunk ‘till it hits...

    By the time she showed, like I said, I was getting pretty short of the readies. The Tab was looming, my credit stretching pretty thin in all the bars, even this place. Even so, the minute she stepped in, needy as I was, my belly just up & hit the floor. "There goes your world again, Shady" I thought to myself. Yeah, I call myself Shady, too. I don’t really count myself as a friend, but we known each other so long, we just let it ride.

    You’re never grateful.

    The place was quiet, like now; time of day, it always is, no matter what it’s present form.

    Maybe I better explain that last sentence; this place, & the guy that runs it, they’re metamorphs. You won’t have noticed it, cuz nobody ever does but me. Changes from day to day, hour to hour; once I counted even seven changes in a day before I passed out. One time you can be buying drinks in a real class, up-town joint - all art deco & chrome surfaces, coiffured marks standing ’round tall tables sippin’ the latest cocktail - then, in a real sudden blink of the eye, WHOOSH! All of a sudden you find yourself sitting in a dingy hole & the marks are looking marked; desperate, drunk, mumbling into their beers, shaking their heads in the gloom.It costs time to make the change. Done in a second, but you look at the clock & whatever energy the transformation took comes out of time; a half hour, a coupla minutes; depends.

    Gus, the bartender, he changes with his place; now a wheezing, old Italian, now a powerful looking negro, now some gin-soured ex-whore, now a fresh faced college kid. He never lets on, even changes character to suit. He knows I know, like I say, I’m the sharpest dick in town, but he never lets on. Sometimes I kid him about it & he just acts like he don’t know what I’m talking about or even like he don’t know me. A real kidder, Gus.

    Well, this day Gus’ Place was nondescript. I’d been drinking all morning & it had been a real hole. Some tramp comes looking for cash & I managed to hit him for a drink - a real pro, me - and then a chat with Gus; always good for a laugh. I made out like I was angry & insisted he admit we known each other for years; he gets all wound & red faced, pulls a stick out from behind the bar, makes like he’s gonna hit me with it, but just before he does, it hits - a flash of light, a wave of dizziness & nausea, booming sound of traffic & people - and I was sitting at the bar, still, with the same half drunk white russian, but the bar has neon strips down it, now, and the floor is polished.

    Gus, he was some teenage kid; didn’t look old enough to be serving.

    "That was a good one, Gus. Had me worried for a second."

    He just looked blankly over, a little embarrassed, then away again; he’s good, but someday I’ll catch him out.

    Anyhow; the place was quiet. Yeah. & in walked this broad, jus’ strolls accross the floor like she was meant to be dancing, long & slow. I knew she’d come for me, but still I just sat there, watching things unfold. Observe. ‘S the key.

    Any other town, I coulda told you she didn’t fit in; high class dresser, tightly woven hair, chinadoll makeup. But this just ain’t that kind of town; everything fits in everywhere; class, trash, the drunk, the preacher, stoneage, middleage, rock&roll youth & old age, various miscreant elements make up the whole, here, like a mad pasta dish thrown together by some chef with really mixed up parentage suffering from the delusion he’s Italian. Yeah, that’s Mikey the Bull, all right. Sure, it tastes like all hell let loose in a trash can, but it’s home. & don’t stiff the waiter when the bill comes; he’s connected, man, & he never forgets a face...

    I hear my name.

    "Mr. S. Shady; I believe he’s a detective."

    Gus looks at her blankly - almost had me going - and the woman makes a sizeist gesture. "What, that guy?"

    So Gus points to me & over she comes, walking with long graceful strides... I tell you, that woman was all leg beneath the hip.

    "Mr. Shady," she said, "I believe you’re a detective for hire."

    "Yeah, well, sweetheart; alot of people believe the world is a big ball of rock floating in space. Just so happens they’re right. What can I do for you?"

    She stared at me blankly for a second with those full, brown eyes, a little overawed, maybe; I got quite a reputation ‘round here. My methods are unusual, but I get results. She seems to click back to:

    "Um... Yes, well... I suppose it is... Good point, Mr. Shady. Um... You are the Mr. Shady, aren’t you?"

    "Him, or the guy that stole his wallet..."

    Silence again, so I lean closer & add: "... And his face."

    She was good; barely a flicker of alarm. They usually can’t control human faces so well as that. This was obviously a long timer. I decided to backtrack a little, play the game: "What’s your handle?"

    "Oh, er; Miss Katyana; Miss Juliana Katyana. You, uh, you helped a friend of mine one time."

    I looked quickly at her; there was something about her face that bothered me... I swatted it away.

    "Thankyou."

    "My pleasure. Now, what else can I do to help you?"

    She looked furtively around the dimly lit bar, obviously worried.

    "I’m being followed, Mr. Shady, and I don’t know by whom."

    "Good English."

    "Why, thankyou."

    "My pleasure. Now this person following you..."

    "It’s a man, about average height, dark hair. He usually wears..."

    "That’s enough for now," I interrupted, "I don’t want to be jaundiced by the facts. Need to keep an open mind, y’see. Can you afford my fees?"

    "I don’t know what they are..."

    "That’s probably for the best, for now. Ms. Katyana, you just bought yourself a dick."

    She looked puzzled for a second, her hand stopping just short of touching her groin. It’s an effect I have on broads, sometimes, when I get decisive.

    "Gus," I called to the bar, "I know you’ll never admit it, but you’re gonna be missing me & my cash for a while again. Don’t make too many changes whilst I’m gone; you got no audience who can appreciate it."

    Gus just pinks up, for all the world like an embarrased adolescent. But that don’t matter; with old friends, you just know.

    Truth is, I was gonna miss him & his booze, too; as I took my leave of Ms. Katyana & the bar, I could already feel reality taking hold, could already feel the first whimpering of my very cells. Yeah, well they’d be screaming soon enough: I was back on the clock.